


Stars fading, but I linger on, dear

by DryDreams



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: :3c, Ace Jon, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Sleepy Sex, Trans Jon, Wet Dream, martin would do anything for this man but we knew, of the flavor where sometimes he fucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22560877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryDreams/pseuds/DryDreams
Summary: All Martin wants to do, generally, is make Jon’s good dreams a reality. This particular dream is certainly no problem.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 48
Kudos: 755





	Stars fading, but I linger on, dear

“Jon. Jon. Wake up.”

Martin shakes Jon’s shoulders, hands trembling slightly. Jon shifts and speaks again, mutters Martin’s name like he has been since Martin woke up. 

Muttering his name, and other things that Martin is burning with. 

“Jon!” He says louder, face hot as Jon whimpers in his sleep and slurs;

 _“Right there,_ Martin.”

It’s then that Jon finally starts awake, blinking at the ceiling and then at Martin, eyes softening and then filling with concern as he takes in Martin’s flustered expression. Then he must realize either what he was dreaming about or maybe, how he feels, Martin doesn’t _know_ but his face colors and he looks mortified.

“Jon.” Martin says more softly. “You were dreaming.”

Jon doesn’t meet his eye as he sits up, trying blearily to brush him away. Obliging, Martin gives him space. “I s-suppose I was,” Jon says, scrubbing a hand across his face. With some effort, Martin politely looks away when he catches Jon squirming near imperceptibly. 

He knows how Jon feels, sure as most people who’ve had a pesky dream like that do. But he’s never known Jon to be much of a “get randomly turned on” person. Though talking in his sleep is nothing new. Martin feels oddly guilty at having witnessed something that Jon hadn’t meant him to be privy to, and even more so for being thoroughly turned on by it.

“It’s okay, we can just go back to sleep,” Martin says gently, and tentatively reaches out a hand. When he touches Jon’s shoulder he jumps and Martin pulls back like he’s been burned. “S-sorry,” he stammers. “Are you okay?”

There’s a beat of silence and then Jon decisively sucks in a breath. “Would you… I think I need. Something.”

Martin clamps down on the excitement that rushes through him. Jon doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of sex often, so it’ll be a rare treat if that’s what he wants. “Anything, love.”

When Jon turns, he pauses, looking thoughtful for a moment and then crawls over to Martin. Eyes wide, Martin stays still and lets Jon kiss him; happily kisses back. For a moment it’s normal, and he puts a hand on Jon’s hip to steady him. Then Jon moans low in his throat and when Martin’s lips part in surprise he takes advantage, licking into Martin’s mouth.

“So it’s like that, then?” He murmurs happily when Jon lets him up for air. 

“Sorry,” Jon mutters back. “Just. Need to get off? If you don’t… if you don’t mind.” He looks away but Martin catches him by the chin and tugs his face back. 

“You know I love to help, no need to be sorry at all.” Martin says, and kisses him again. When Jon whines and adjusts so Martin’s knee is between his legs, Martin pulls back, eyebrows raised.

“Good dream, huh?” He says, still somewhat baffled. He slips a hand under Jon’s shirt and rubs up his back. “You wanna tell me what I was doing that was so nice?” 

“Mm,” Jon hums and nuzzles into Martin’s neck, scattering small sucking kisses there. “Was just your lovely mouth.” 

Immediately Martin’s mouth waters and he curses softly under his breath. “Do you want me to finish what I started?”

“Yes, please” Jon sighs, sleep still heavy in his tone. He goes easy when Martin tips him onto his back, moving his hips in small, squirmy circles. 

“What a treat,” Martin murmurs as he settles between Jon’s legs, pushing up his shirt to kiss the dip in his ribs and the scar on his hip. Jon huffs as if Martin is being ridiculous, covering his face with a hand. 

“A nuisance, more like,” Jon grumbles. “It’s 3:30.”

Martin shoots him a look that he doesn’t see, hooking fingers under the elastic on his sweatpants. Jon lifts his hips obediently as Martin pulls them off. There’s nothing underneath, and Martin sucks in a sharp breath when he sees the insides of Jon’s thighs glistening slightly. 

“Fuck sleep,” he whispers reverently, want twisting in his gut. “You’re gorgeous.”

This whole thing was driving him rather mad, that Jon had been dreaming of _him_ and it had him this uncharacteristically desperate. Sure, Martin hadn’t technically been responsible but… sort of. Close enough. Anyways, he’d never been more awake. 

After he frees Jon’s heel from his pants and discards them, he presses a kiss to the inside of Jon’s ankle. To his satisfaction, Jon shivers and hums pleasantly, so he does it a few more times, to the arch of his foot and the delicate tendon above his heel.

When he tucks Jon’s leg over his shoulder and settles, Jon’s fingers slide into his hair. With them, a warmth down his spine. He presses a kiss to Jon’s dick, pretty and swollen and Jon makes a strangled sound. “Do you want me to make this quick so you can sleep, or…?” He trails off, sliding two fingers against him, gathering slick. 

“I—“ Jon starts, impatiently pushing against Martin’s hand. “If you like,” he finishes, rather huffy. Martin rolls his eyes affectionately. This is what he gets for waking Jon up before 7:30; he’s not going to complain. 

“If you don’t tell me what you want I’ll have you here til’ you tap out or our alarms go off.” 

“That’s. Hm.” Martin sucks him into his mouth and he lets out a shuddering breath. “That’s fine,” he finishes, sounding strained and Martin smiles to himself. He won’t keep them up forever, but he’s going to savor this. 

Wound up as he already was, it takes very little time for Jon to quiver apart under Martin’s tongue, tugging sharply at his hair. The way his back arches when he comes has Martin feeling rather short of breath. When he pushes up on an elbow, Jon skates his fingers down lightly over his jaw and then presses against the bow of his lips with a thumb. Martin kisses it. 

“More?” He asks simply and Jon nods, chewing at his own bottom lip. “Don’t bite your lip, you’ll bleed.” 

“You’re not making it easy,” Jon grumbles, tugging on Martin’s earlobe. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just try to have a little self control, I believe in you.” 

He gets a pinch for that, but he pays it back in kind, sliding two fingers into Jon and pressing expertly where he knows will send a lovely shock.

“Fuck you,” Jon breathes out. 

“I don't think I need to.” Martin shoots back. He mouths at the inside of Jon’s thigh, avoiding the single round scar there, close to the crease. That one in particular makes him feel uneasy; he doesn't like thinking about the aftermath of it. Jon being vulnerable is for him, just for him.

And he loves this so much, so goddamn much, having the man he worships writhing in his arms, the taste of him thick on his tongue. The rarity of it only makes it a million times better. 

Jon has a hand tangled in his own hair now, head thrown back, lovely neck exposed. Martin wants to mark over his jugular but he’s busy; he’ll do it later when they’re both moments from sleep. For now he is satisfied with a few reddening spots where no one else will ever see them. 

“You’re _teasing,”_ Jon grits out. Martin stops rocking his fingers all together. He hadn’t meant to tease, just got rather wrapped up in enjoying himself. But.

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes, _yes_ Martin, please don’t _stop.”_

Martin changes his plan. Sitting up, he slips an arm under Jon and hefts him up. Jon yelps but wraps his arms around Martin’s neck as Martin pulls him into his lap and presses his back against the headboard. 

“What on earth are you— _fuck, a-ah, Martin!”_

Jon makes a sound like he’s been punched when Martin pushes his fingers back in, three this time, grinding the heel of his palm against Jon’s dick as he does. He sets a quick pace, fucking Jon with short, well-aimed strokes. Jon’s head drops onto his shoulder and his fingers curl, nails digging into Martin’s shoulders. It’s all so slick and easy, Jon is so wet for him and Martin feels a bit dizzy. 

“Hey,” he breathes, and Jon interrupts his own hitching, desperate noises to respond with a dazed “Hh?”

“I adore you, gorgeous man,” Martin says breathlessly. Jon whines and curls into him even further, mouth wet and open against Martin’s neck as he pants. 

When Jon comes again it’s with a violent shudder and a broken moan. Martin feels a small gush of wet as Jon clenches around his fingers and he coos, petting at Jon’s back with his other hand. Martin will have angry red scratch marks on the back of his neck tomorrow and he’ll treasure them.

“God you’re perfect, I love you so much, Jon, I love you.” 

Jon’s twitching goes on for nearly a full minute, Martin slowly bringing him down. 

Finally it’s just steady breathing from them both. Martin should want to get off too by all accounts but he’s exhausted, and he’s not about to ask anything of the wilted flower in his arms. Maybe in the morning. 

“Alright, I’m tapping out for you.” He says, gently untangling them. Jon hums happily, no grumbling left in him. 

“How are you so good at that?” He mumbles, eyes already slipping shut as his head hits the bed.

Martin bites back a smile, pride blooming in his chest. “Dunno.” He responds, fishing around on the ground for the shirt he knows he left down there. “Maybe I just know you _really_ well.” 

“Funny,” Jon mutters. “No idea who you are at all.”

Martin wipes his hands on the shirt and then tugs Jon’s thighs apart for a cursory swipe. Satisfied with the minimal cleaning effort for now, he tosses it and settles down behind Jon, curling around him and tucking the blanket in place. “Well that’s really too bad, considering how good I am at sex.”

Jon huffs out a laugh and then there’s a beat of silence. Martin lets his eyes slide shut, already feeling the weight of sleep again. 

“I love you too,” Jon says then, finding Martin’s hand and awkwardly threading their fingers together. “And I hope I dream of you again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Short and sweet but I’m VERY FOND. Thank you for reading friends !!


End file.
